Holden's Turning Point in Life
by gennywitha-G
Summary: Holden gets out of the place meant for the crazy and gets picked up by DB. Holden goes back to New York and remembers his past and while he's at it, he meets up with some new characters. I tried to write this story in the same style as how JD Salinger wro
1. Getting Out of this Dump

Chapter 1-Getting Out of this Dump

I'm finally getting out of this place where they psychoanalyzed me. This one time I had to go to a psychoanalyst because I was so crazy about Allie's death. If you don't know who Allie is, he's my little brother that died when I was only thirteen. Finally I'll get to see DB soon. He wrote The Secret Goldfish. There were a lot of short stories. The only one that was pretty decent was "The Secret Goldfish." I heard that he was going to write another book. The people in Hollywood are all phonies (especially the actors). Soon I'm going to be sitting in the passenger's seat in his new Jaguar. It's supposed to have leather seats and be comfortable as hell. One thing I don't understand is how can people in Hollywood get so much damn money if they're all phonies? That question has been making me become crazier every day. To be quite honest, I don't think that phonies should get so much money. They only use it up on themselves with drugs and all. DB has entered the building and now I get to sit in the most comfortable car in the world. Shit! DB is outside and he's smoking his cigarette, cool as hell. He has on an expensive leather jacket with jeans that makes him look like he's _cool_ and all. His black hair is pulled back with tons of gel in the style of Elvis. The more I hear about Presley the more I figure out that everyone wants to be his damn _clone_ or something like that. If you want to know the truth, that's stupid as hell. DB had to come up to the office to sign me off of this jailed up place. Then I hitched a ride with him. When I saw his Jaguar, I stopped in my tracks and stared at it. I must of looked stupid as hell, but I stood there anyway. DB's black Jaguar was the most comfortable car in the world. We started up the road. This ride up to Hollywood was a hellava long trip. Once we got up there you could tell that everyone there was a phony. They all put on so much make-up. They looked like they were long lost movie stars or something like that trying to get a job somewhere, anywhere. Finally we parked the car to go to DB's apartment. It was filled with a tv, several transistor radios, and some things he collected from baseball games and from Broadway shows. And DB's apartment was huge as hell. DB also had all of these girls around touching him and everything. It would be stupid as hell to use up all your money on prostitutes, but that's what DB did. I decided right then and there to get out of his apartment. I was going to take the train all the way to New York to see old Phoebe again. But the thing is, I didn't have any dough. So I asked DB for some.

"Hell no! You're not going to get any," screamed aloud DB.

"And why can't I have some of your damn dough?" I demanded. I was getting pist as hell. I felt like horsing around, but then I decided not to do that. It might make DB in a hellava worser mood.

"You're not going to pay me back. That's why!" It sounded like DB was yelling at the top of his lungs. He was pist. That's for sure. I decided I needed to become a little more persuasive so that I could get out of here.

"If I don't hand back the money in several days, you know who to call."

DB sighed then replied, "I'll call mom and dad. They'll definitely get you if you don't give me back the damn money alright."

I stayed there until I couldn't handle it any longer with the damn women around DB. I left with a hundred dollars in my pocket the next morning around four o'clock.


	2. The Ride to NYC

Chapter 2 – The Ride to NYC

It was dark as hell with a few lights glowing in the distance. Hollywood didn't look that damn nice when there wasn't any sun shining the goddamn city, but it never really looked that damn good anyways. I was walking down the street. There weren't many people here, except for the ones that were dressed in black and always were taking someone's goddamn money. Or they would kill each other just for the hell of it. It's just like in the damn Hollywood movies. There would be the murderer and he would kill all of the goddamn police guys with his goddamn gun. Someone was walking behind me, following me. It was acting like my goddamn personal stalker. Just because someone was following me that didn't mean I was _scared_ or anything. I was just goddamn cautious. Then, I felt like horsing around. So, I abruptly stopped. The person dressed in black ran in front of me and took out its gun, pointing it right in my goddamn face. I wasn't goddamn intimidated, or anything. I was calm as hell, just like how I've always been. It made a goddamn sigh for my damn wallet or something that was related to money. Then I must of screamed to the top of my goddamn lungs because the whole neighborhood lit up their lights, "Hell no! I'm not giving you the small amount of dough I have. That's the only dough I have to go to New York!" Then she took off the goddamn hat that covered her face. I could see her blond hair that was floating through the wind. It glowed in the dark. I would swear that it looked like silk. So soft, I wanted to touch it. But from the goddamn darkness, it was impossible to get a glimpse of her damn face. She replied in such a damn sweet and sad voice, "I would like to go to New York too, but I don't have the money. Maybe we could pay half and half to go up there. I have enough if I only have to pay half price." Even though she had a hellava sweet voice, she sounded like she was up to something suspicious, but I completely ignored that damn part and forgot about it as time went on.

We walked a little further until we spotted a goddamn bus stop. It wasn't too far away from DB's apartment.


	3. On the bus to Idaho

(i haven't finished this chapter just yet, but i want to know if it's going in the right direction)

It has been several hours by now. We've been attempting to catch every single goddamn bus that would lead us closer to New York. Now we're on the tenth bus and it is driving me so goddamn crazy. First we went on the number three bus, which headed us towards Las Vegas. Then we caught the number ten bus and traveled all the goddamn way to Idaho. Why the hell did we go there? I don't know. Now we are heading towards Montana. Why the hell am I saying "we"? I'm traveling with that _woman_? I don't even know the goddamn girl. Who the hell knows who she could be. Maybe she's a goddamn spy who's trying to make me cough up some information for the FBI, then kill me. She has to be one because of her helluva good looks. I bet she's one of those actors who are so goddamn fake and all. I bet that's who she is. But then why isn't she in a limo or in a black truck with all of her damn spy gear? I get up and move towards where she has been sitting. Her blond hair captivated my every move until she finally turns around and asks, "What do you want?" I started to stutter and attempt to reply not in a goddamn stupid way, "Oh! I was just wondering why you're trying to get to the goddamn city of New York?"

"Why are you?" she answers back smartly.

"Well I wanna go back up there to see my little sis. How she's been doing after all of these damn years." It became so goddamn silent and I just can't handle it when people don't answer my stupid questions.

"You didn't answer my question." I have been waiting long enough.

"Why would I tell you?"

I look away and decide to just drop the goddamn topic.

"Why are you that interested?" she demands. I don't have a damn clue of what exactly to tell her. I just want to make sure I'm not hanging around a fake, that's all. So I answer back asking, "Are you planning on going to NYU or something for acting?" She stared at my goddamn face and looked a bit perplexed. She started to move around in her seat and suddenly she says, "Now why would I do that?"

"I don't know. I'm just making a goddamn guess."

"Well, that's not a very good guess."

"Then what are you going to do over there with, might I add, a gun?"

"To do some work and also to see my family."

"What exactly is this _work_ you're talking about?" Now she her hand started to move from her lap. It landed on my knee then slowly came up my goddamn thigh. I suddenly sprang up and disrupted the only man hobo who was there, "Are you crazy! Hell no. I've been trying to run away from people like you." The driver of the bus pulled over, got up, and went up to me and said, "You better sit down during the ride or you and your woman are getting off." As I began to settle back down, I moved my damn seat, which was further away from her.

"Like who?" she asks innocently after my goddamn reply.

"_You,_ damn prostitutes and all. Hell no, I'm not sleeping with you."


End file.
